


The Hallows That Divide Us

by Why_SoSer1ous



Series: The Grindeldore Chronicles [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 19th Century, 20th Century, Angst, Canon, Dumblewald, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Grindeldore, Harry Potter Universe, Lies, M/M, More angst, Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, Not Actually Unrequited Love, The Deathly Hallows, Wizards, You can't tell me otherwise, a lot more angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-19 15:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22812958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Why_SoSer1ous/pseuds/Why_SoSer1ous
Summary: Albus Dumbledore - A man hung on despair from the loss of his friend; his lover; due to differing opinions in their adolescent years, has brought himself to waste away at the Mirror of Erised year after year. But when he hears of Grindelwald's escape, it is not fear that he feels. It is hope. Hope to see the man that he had fallen in love with all those years ago.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Series: The Grindeldore Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640005
Comments: 9
Kudos: 67





	1. ~ One ~

**Author's Note:**

> This is an updated/edited version of my original story posted on Wattpad. I will be continuing it on here, with the intention of making it into a series. The original will not be deleted from Wattpad if you want to access that also, under my same username (Why_SoSer1ous), but for a continuation of the story I have already written, the remaining will be posted on here. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone that has already read this, and hopefully continue to read the following.

...the hope that one day this weakened bond between the pair was not for total loss.

Dumbledore sighed. 

Staring at the nonchalant reflection in the mirror was a reminder of the hopelessness he was destined to face. His future - the catalyst that held him onto whatever life he had ultimately lain out to follow. It was hardly satisfactory. But, his imitated reflection showed otherwise. 

His rival. His friend. His lover... 

Gellert Grindelwald - the man whom he'd shed his heart, subconsciously knowing it was never going to last. He'd repressed said feelings. Not allowing himself the closure he knew he'd have to accept eventually. For love divided the temporal void between power and loss. It was always power that Grindelwald truly believed in.

The man staring back at him with his fiendish, platinum-white hair wore a scowl. As though the image of an expression was worth more than the reality. Though the reality, as Albus recalled, was very much a similar distaste. To look away would have been a crime. He seemed almost sad, behind his curt scowl. Matching the sadness that currently weighed heavy on Albus' heart. 

What could he do but stare back at the desire he had once had. Loved but then lost the only true desire he had known before the tragedy of his sister. 

Knowing and accepting her death had not changed the feelings he had for Gellert. They had not wavered his only other desire to his family, for Gellert was family. Felt like family at the very least. He touched the very depths of his heart that Albus himself had never known prior. The memory was too much. 

He forced his gaze away. 

For a split second, the brief acknowledgement of dark magic came flooding back. ( 'You can't trust him, Albus...' )

But then it was gone. As soon as it had come. 

All he saw was Gellert - looking back up. His cheekbones sharply extending his jawline. He arched his shoulders from the way he unwittingly felt at ease. This, accompanied by the haphazard, curved smirk he always gave Albus when they'd agreed on something...

It had never been a smile. 

However much Albus loved Gellert, he knew better than to believe a smile. There was never any truth behind the smile. Only lies, deceit and potential back-stabbing. Even if he was outrageously handsome when the teeth were flashed his way. Albus swooned at the thought. But, the smirk was the closest alternative. At least that showed Albus that he was happy. Always devious, but happy.

Over recent years, the mirror had felt like a scapegoat. Hiding behind the congressional society of ministry magic, Albus had no intention of hiding behind when he was younger. With the influence of Grindelwald, it had been easy enough to rebel against. 

Albus closed his eyes into the memory of their childhood. It hurt. Hurt like hell; with the treachery and lies. Even if they'd had that summer...

He tried to shake it off. The memory. It had been harder than he'd thought, though it had been half a lifetime (for some people). Holding the weight on his shoulders for just under thirty years. Not letting go. Not wanting to. Not knowing how or when to move on, yet...

When the second face appeared in the mirror, Albus knew he was never going to let go. 

The adolescent years of himself and Gellert mirrored back as a reflection. Staring at the memories he'd once had and the feelings he still held. Even though it had been worse back in 1898, Albus saw the look on his younger self's face pressed against the glass that grasped onto Grindelwald's hand. 

There was a certain weakness to the want in his eyes. He remembered it well, but it was painful to watch. Though try as he might, he couldn't look away. 

When the tears started to form in his eyes, Albus turned on his sleeve, rubbing his face with the regret that plagued him. The tears wet his shirt cuffs, not that he was paying much attention to either the appearance of his clothing or his face. Then he sighed - out of heartbreak. 

Breathing out to compose himself, he watched the images finally fade away. Falling like sand to the bottom of the glass before evaporating completely as though there had never been anything there. Another memory not forgotten. 

Albus held his hand up to the mirror once more. This time with it only holding his own reflection as any other would show. And with his last breath, he whispered into the frame:

"For the greater good, my dear friend."


	2. ~ Two ~

That summer dreamt the possibilities of a changed man. Or so he had thought. 

Between the bliss and outrage of past memories, Albus dreamt peacefully of the darkened alleys and cantering thestrals of home. It wasn't so much as a tourist pit-stop for most people, but to him it was heaven. It was home. 

There had been no point hiding his feelings if only spoken to Gellert. Though, he was the only one that needed to know. Albus was in love with him. From the moment they had met. The shake of his hand; how soft it had been. Then the swift yet subtle introduction from his aunt before the pair of them were off. Together. A partnership meant to be. So sudden, so just.

And then it was gone. 

Face-down, Albus let out a sigh. He strained his neck, sitting up in his desk chair. He had woken early again. 

Moving his left shoulder to the far side, he exhaled temporary pain. The sound of his bones snapping back into place before he pushed off the desk with the flat of his palms and stumbled around the room like a drunken one-night stand. Having fallen asleep at the wake of his markings and notes again, Albus moved with an unsteadiness to him. His dreams obviously hadn't helped with the situation. 

The cool touch of Gellert's hand; an afterthought left traced across his skin. The feeling of entwined fingers as Gellert had dragged Albus into the deserted graveyard. It had always been an odd place to hang out with his best friend, but their relationship was like no other. Different would have been an understatement. 

Momentarily, the pain began to die down. That of mental and physical strain. A neutral destitute that Albus could tolerate throughout his daily teaching duties. Although this had recently been harder to anchor since Grindelwald's rise and capture.

Albus thought: He hadn't been for long. 

He knew this. Without fault. He didn't need to be conjoined to the man to know there had always been another plan in place. Not that he knew what it was. But the fact of the matter was obvious enough to the genius eye. Though he hadn't dared tell anyone. 

For one, anyone with a modicum of sense would have thought him crazy, but the real reason stemmed from the feeling that amongst everything that he had done and who he was, Albus was biased on the soul fact that the tiniest part of him had wanted Gellert to escape. Not to wreak havoc on the muggle world, obviously. But, to see him again. Even if it was just once. One last time. Because Albus knew. He knew that he would not have the strength or the willpower to stop Grindelwald if it got that far.

His feelings - the overbearing obstruction. 

With that weighing on his mind, a sudden flood of footsteps could be heard outside his doors. Without so much as a knock, they flew open slamming on either side of the wall. Entering, several young men dressed in brown trenchcoats and fedora-like hats wafted in without a second care in the world. They circled his desk, Albus taking his time to face them by sitting against the edge, crossing his arms over his chest to make a point of superiority. 

"I beg to inquire, but what can I help you with, gentlemen? I'm awfully busy as you can see," he said referring to the very messy room around him. "And those who know me well should know better than to interrupt without a sincere apology."

The man closest to him stepped closer. His hat took over the entirety of his forehead, removing any proof of a hairline. Albus deduced this man as Torquil Travers. They had interacted before, though he refrained from addressing himself or any of his fellow Aurors, during the entire interaction. 

"We're sorry, Dumbledore. But as a man of your stature and past endeavours, we're here to inquire about the whereabouts of Newt Scamander. We hear he's heading to Paris under your orders, missioned to find and kill Grindelwald."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow before he cocked his head to the side. Behind Travers, another taller gentlemen in a similar attire clenched his shoulders. Theseus Scamander crossed his arms over his chest once Dumbledore had caught his eye. Suspecting the older brother wasn't all too happy about the altercation in the first place, he turned back towards Travers.

"Not kill, I can assure you that. But why are you asking? Are you suspecting me of controversy?" 

Murmurs spread across the room. Theseus dropped his gaze to the floor. Albus would have laughed, had it been a less serious matter. 

"Well..." he paused. Not wanting to offend. "Your...past and reputation point us to believe you're sceptical of Grindelwald's plans. Though we cannot see why you have not gone yourself..."

"Gentlemen, knowing the truth only hurts more when you act on trying to fix it like a problem when actually it is merely a memory that is irreplaceable." Dumbledore smiled at several of the dumfounded faces of those behind Travers. 

"Words of wisdom, I see."

"Only the truth, my friend."

Albus sighed when all he got in return was a blank expression. All eyes had been on him since the start, but he wasn't prepared to argue with the man. He hadn't slept enough for that. Alternatively, Albus brought his wand to his own temple, plucking a silver strand from his head. (A memory). It hovered briefly on the tip of his wand before offering it to Travers. 

"A token of 'wisdom'. Let us see if it gives you what you desire." 

Taking the strand and placing it into a transparent flask, Travers moved the gesture into his inside pocket before removing his hat in gratitude to the professor. 

"Many thanks, Dumbledore."

"I should hope to never hear from you again, yet my gut is telling me this will not be our last encounter." 

Travers smirked. An expression almost identical to that which Grindelwald manifested all those years ago. Albus' gaze dropped to avoid any further eye-contact. Travers took this as a hint and turned to leave the room, followed by his minion army of ten. 

Theseus dared to move once all the others had vacated the room, watching as Albus refrained from pulling his head back up. He could see that his breathing was out of sync and his fists had gone white from clenching but after a moment's thought, he withheld from asking and turned to leave himself. 

The door slammed quietly behind him and Albus let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Left to his thoughts again. How easy it had been to hide his feelings from an associate who had been unintentionally asking him about his past in a coerced way. 

Albus looked down at his white hands, unclasping them after realising the severity. He sighed - again. Holding his head in his hands, he let go of a jagged breath with the attempt of trying to conceal it. It was a morbid thought to remember his past this way, but try as he might, he couldn't stop the memories flooding back in. 

The deathly hallows had once united them, and the hallows would soon unite them again.


	3. ~ Three ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback Chapter (1)

\----------1898----------

"The Hallows are the key to everything, Albus. You and I, we can rule over it all. Wizard dominance, just like you wanted."

Grindelwald lay in the summer grass, facing upwards towards the inconsistently blue sky. It was the warmest part of the year, though that never stopped the clouds from opening up and ruining the afternoon. He held a book in his hands, facing upwards so he could read the small print without being blinded by the sunlight. 

Albus lay next to him. Facing Gellert. Essentially avoided as the other boy was too infatuated with the book in his hands to notice. In comparison to the brown-haired teen who had nothing on his mind but Grindelwald. He watched his glossy, blonde hair fall down to cover his beautiful, mismatched eyes. Then his eyes wandered to the flushed, pink shade that coloured his cheeks. Albus was dazed. 

Without looking up from the book, Gellert moved his left leg to kick Albus lightly. Almost playfully. "Albus, this is it. The deathly hallows. More commonly known as the cloak of invisibility, the resurrection stone and the elder wand. What do you..."

Albus had closed his eyes. His hearing acquitted to the soothing tones of Gellert's voice. Dozing off next to him in a harmonious trance. But the break, in Gellert's voice, told him that he'd noticed the change in Albus' attention. 

He lowered the book. 

"My friend, it seems you have not been listening to a word of my tales. Maybe if you opened your eyes you'd pay closer attention."

Albus opened his gorgeous blue eyes to stare back at Gellert. The pit of knowledge captured in a glance. Their eyes had locked - smiling in the other's wake. "There are better things to look at..." he exhaled. For a brief second, not realising he'd spoken. 

Gellert smirked. "I guess you're right. I am perfect after all." He laughed, facing forwards again. Albus, in an attempt to hide his sadness, unconsciously sighed. Followed by a brief smile that could not have been further from the truth. 

Without being asked to, Gellert then turned onto his side to face Albus. Noting the intimacy to be necessary when he moved his hand across Albus' face to move a handful of hairs that had covered his eyes. Albus blushed, brightening his already pink cheeks. 

Gellert smirked again. 

He wasn't an idiot. He knew what Albus felt for him was a little more than friendship. In a way, if he was thinking ahead, this was ideal for him in the long run. Albus was more likely to stand with the hallows as long as Gellert was there. A partnership they could explore. Standing together. Together...

But there was something else. A hidden feeling Gellert had pushed aside. Deducing it as merely a passing glance or a false emotion, he watched himself caress the soft skin of Albus' neck, with his thumb. 

To him, this was rare. Very rare. Something that hadn't happened prior to meeting Albus. For he was the only other person that had ever understood him for what he wanted to achieve and accepted the fact that he was always going to be his first and most important asset. 

Their faces now symmetrical in the grass, and almost too close for comfort, Gellert felt a hinge of an uncomfortable notion. He pulled away slightly. 

"I've been thinking, Albus..."

"You think too much, Gellert. Turn off your brain for a minute and look at me. Really look at me, because I want you to see behind the veil." He pulled him back towards him by the nape of his shirt. Clutching the fabric like a lifeline. "I can see the cogs turning, Gellert. But I want you to see me first this time. Just this once."

In the dusty summer wind, Gellert's one pale eye shone brighter than it ever had before. His individuality had always fascinated Albus. The likeness only increasing once they'd gotten to know each other. Albus' eyes wandered back towards his lips, as he spoke.

"I know." Was all he said.

For that was enough to send Albus into a frenzy. (Does he know? Is that a yes? Is this clarification that he knows? Does he want what I want?)

Gellert laughed. "I can see your cogs turning, now. Why not follow your own advice and turn off YOUR brain, Albus."

Dumbledore had always loved the way Gellert laughed. Besides the smirks, his laugh was the closest thing to a smile. Clenching his facial muscles which allowed him to show any other emotion besides snarkiness and fury. Gellert almost always made himself laugh from silly remarks Albus had made, but Dumbledore thought it was always nice to see him laugh like that. 

His lips had curved at the edges. The way his teeth broadened showed promise of happier times. They felt safe in each other's company, but the emotional barrier was getting crossed and Gellert was unsure whether he should have stayed in the moment. 

Albus didn't care.

He could see the doubt on Gellert's face. But it was succeeded by a smirk. Albus just wished he could take Grindelwald's hand and hold it for more than a friendly grasp. He could already imagine the soft touch of his fingertips grasping tightly onto his wrist before moving up his arm, over his shoulder, over his lips...

"I want you to close your eyes."

"But...what?" Albus came out of his trance. 

"No buts, Albus. You trust me don't you, dear friend? I'll be kind, I swear."

Albus composed himself. Closing his eyes out of embarrassment primarily, as well as intrigue. He hadn't realised how pathetic he had sounded until it was too late. Although trusting Gellert was another rarity. But that didn't stop him from complying. 

"We have been through some tough times together," Gellert placed both of his hands on either side of his neck. "I have been here with you, as you have with me," he moved closer. "As my closest friend and dearest companion, I tell you...I want to make you happy."

Before Albus could open his eyes, Gellert softly but swiftly brought his own lips lightly upon Albus'. The two in an unbreakable embrace. Conformity. Self-love. 

It was brief and soft and loving which is all he had ever wanted from him. Wanting this to be the first of many. So, he closed his eyes to indulge in the moment. Not knowing when a moment like that would pass him by again, but not wanting to think about it, Albus stayed. Stayed close and comfortable to the man he had fallen in love with.


	4. ~ Four ~

The letter:

Your point about Wizard dominance  
being FOR THE MUGGLES OWN GOOD-  
this, I think is the crucial point, yes,  
we have been given power and, yes, that  
power gives us the right to rule, but  
it also gives us responsibilities over the  
ruled. We must stress this point, it  
will be the foundation stone upon which  
we build. Where we are opposed, as we  
surely will be, this must be the basis  
of all our counter-arguments. We seize  
control FOR THE GREATER GOOD. 

And from this, it follows that where  
we meet resistance, we must use only  
the force that is necessary and no more. 

(This was your mistake at Durmstrang!  
But I do not complain, because if you  
had not been expelled, we would never  
have met).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus turned the note in his hands. He had made a copy of the original. Written years ago that he had given to Gellert. 

Not that he had kept the sentiment, but Albus had always hoped he'd retained possession of the note. Something of which he'd argued for and against his newfound opinions of Grindewald's plans...

It had been a long shot. 

Not that he even knew that Gellert wouldn't have initially read the letter (the first time) when he'd sent it back in 1898. Thinking back, Gellert had always valued his opinion. Never, more than his own, of course, but more than any other person. They'd shared a bond, but that had quickly changed following the arrogance he'd exhumed many years later. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How could you, Albus!? After all this time, we had planned to stratify the order between the magic and non-magic world."

"It's wrong, Gellert. I never wanted it like this!"

"We could have been unstoppable together."

"You fool, I never wanted that. I wanted you. It was always you..."

"And there lies your weakness, my friend. Love is formed to grow as a bond but if you tether yourself too tight dear friend, sooner or later, it will break." 

"My love for you will not stop me from defeating you, Gellert. I thought the love would have broken in both of us...clearly I was mistaken."

"This will end only one way, Albus. For the greatest power is power itself."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shaking the memory off, he paced the room. Amongst the conflict, he had hoped to contact Gellert after all these years. But hearing of the escape had been expected.

He'd thought to be surprised - he wasn't.

Knowing Gellert better than anyone, except perhaps his aunt, Albus held dearly to the memories he could never retrieve. Maybe the connection had been a hoax. A ploy to enhance his admiration solely to guarantee his loyalty towards Grindelwald. Though, if that were the truth, he didn't want to know. 

Albus sat back at his desk, leaning back. The stories had been true in his own minds-eye. The fact of the matter could not be perturbed because as he recalled them every time, Albus had wanted more than anything else to go back to the time when things were simpler. 

Letting himself return to that time, if only in thought, was a godsend. Smelling the grass around him. As it shone emerald, he wanted to feel the summer air as it whistled through Gellert's golden hair. And when the summer drew close in Godric's Hollow, he wanted to feel the touch of his skin. Holding his own palm out for Gellert to take in his own. 

Just like before. 

But when Albus had heard the news of Grindelwald's escape, the first thing he did was smile. His first emotion: happiness. His first words: nothing. Though it wasn't shock. It was relief. 

He knew it was wrong but after all this time and after all those deaths, he knew. He knew that no vault could hold the man that held the key to his heart, forever. 

But Grindelwald had been right about one thing.

Albus' inefficiency and ultimate refusal to move against his rival was ultimately down to his love for him. Over time, it had become his greatest weakness. He knew it. Gellert knew it. And that is what had made him even more powerful after all this time. 

To not stand against his adversary meant he could rein free; wreak havoc. His followers by his side - Albus couldn't go. 

'Which side was he on?'

The thought had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. But he had decided all those years ago, for choosing a side had cost him his friend, his lover, and to act upon his other feelings would have surely made matters worse. 

It would make the tables turn. But this time the sides would surely be changed indefinitely. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What about love, Gellert?! What about our love?"

"You know more than anyone the importance of our plans. The Hallows have meant everything to me, to us!"

"That wasn't the only thing in the world that was important to ME, though..."

"You have to make a choice. It's one or the other, Albus. I chose mine."

"As did I..."


	5. ~ Five ~

Gellert's face formed the scowl of a man who had not yet achieved greatness.

His visions had been compromised. The only ones coming to light, coincidently, were of his former companion. 

Companion; friend; lover. It was all the same to him. Good memories came at a price. Though his tale would be spun differently to his adversary. 

"Your heart is perspiring. I can feel it. You're terrified of me." He spoke aloud. 

He stared at the door. Waiting. Expecting them to open - they didn't. The auditorium was vast. Amongst everything, the building, (because of its size), made him look small. A feeling he wouldn't have admitted to, though his choice of venue was ultimately down to the ineptitude of being found. For only those he wished to find him, would be able to. 

His distrust of everyone he had come across in his life, led him to believe he wasn't alone. "My visions cannot see past the door, Albus. But the mere presence of your inconsistent breathing is very hard to miss." He stepped closer. Despite the fact the closer he got to the door, the quieter the noise got. 

Then it became a deadpan silence. (He stopped.)

Gulping in the sudden tension of how alone he was, Gellert shuddered. Hearing voices was never a good sign. Especially ones not within his vision-state. He felt isolated. Though, that had been a common recurrence. After escaping, it was an adrenaline-fuelled rollercoaster. Initial strife that ignited the conflict, but ultimately brought him a joyous feeling. But even with the deaths of those useless Aurors tasked with 'guarding him', it hadn't cured his sickly sadness. 

Taking a breath, he closed the rest of the gap between himself and the door. Wafting his tailed trenchcoat behind him in a committed stride.

Before he even got to the door, he knew it was a waste of time. The noise had dispersed completely, the memories had returned, and all that remained on his mind was a clear, foreboding image of Albus. "Get out of my head!" He put his hands over his ears like the memories were channelling through his ear canal and by placing his hands over them, the transmission was cut off. It didn't work. "Stop!!" 

He punched the wall - hard and fast.

Looking down at his knuckle, he'd wrecked it. The sharp pain, a constant. But, nothing that couldn't be fixed. It had felt good to use physical force for a change. A punishment he'd prescribed for allowing himself to have pathetic infatuations. His bloodied knuckles were quickly attended to as he hovered his other hand over the wound. They quickly vanished, not even leaving a scar in their wake. Having healed instantly. Though, the pain was still there. It had kept him alive. Feeling something. Even if it was pain. 

Albus would've been livid, he thought. This made him smirk. 

For as much as he missed his dear friend, the pain of his own suffering was a gateway into Albus' pain. Hurting him by hurting himself because he knew better than anyone that Albus had never truly cared about himself. The only downfall that Gellert had tried to fix in their adolescence. Now though, it would seem that his pain would help him win. For Albus was not brave enough to face Grindelwald. 

Not a coward. Never a coward. But scared of facing the man he had once loved...still loves. 

Gellert hadn't noticed he'd been clenching his hand, and a similar wound appeared in the same place he had just healed. This time: bloodied fingernails. He sighed. This time not bothering to heal it. Albus would have had something to say. He always did. 

Even with the prospects of almost certain victory, to have Albus with him; as ally or opponent; would've been good to see him again. Gellert sighed (again), this time turning away from the door and twisting his still bloodied fist in his other hand. Cursing himself for getting sentimental - the pain of the wound helped. 

Walking back, he then pulled a very old piece of paper out of his pocket, with his good hand. Straining, but once he pulled it out, rolled his eyes before reading the excerpt. 

It had been years since Albus had sent that to him. Half a lifetime. (For some.) Gellert knew that Albus had thought he'd never read the letter. Touched it even. But here it was, on his person. Reading it often, in times he hadn't meant to, but he always found himself being drawn back. He had never thought about returning it. It had felt too personal. And Gellert had never been one for sentimentalities. 

It was almost pathetic. 

But the words that Albus had written. They were his own. They weren't in haste or absurdly meaningful. They were his own words. The loyalty of his friend was all he could read on the page. And this upset him. 

Holding his hand underneath the page, a small spark emerged. A flame. He held it under, about to incinerate the pages...

But then he stopped. 

"...if you had not been expelled, we would never have met." The last words. He was speaking directly to Gellert. The entire letter could have been interpreted from any point of view for multiple reasons, but the last sentence was directed at Gellert. Only him. And, it was then that he saw something. 

Forgiveness. 

Then came the guilt. He needed to write back. Wanted to write back. A long, long overdue letter that was leading to something more. To connect back to his long-lost companion. In a whisper, he exhaled. "Oh, Albus, you've done it again. You've persuaded me."

Smiling for the first time, he pulled out another piece of parchment and began to write...magic-free...his letter to Albus:

Dear, Albus

For what has been noted as longer than I would've wanted, we have been separated because of the deathly.....

(He tried again.)

Dear, Albus

For what has been noted as an eternity of a lifetime, our paths have unfortunately not crossed since our time together. THAT precious time is something I have never forgotten and never will. I have always wanted to go back there. 

My dearest friend, our quarrels have weighed on me recently, as I'm sure you have been informed of my recent endeavours over the past few years. The truth is, I have never once thought I could finish my quest for power without you. As this was our plan as a pair from the beginning. Remember?

I need you, Albus. More than I think you believe it to be. I will be in contact, as I'm widely aware that receiving this letter from me is more than I deserve. I do not expect you to read it, but this is far too long overdue. You'll hear from me. Whether you like it or not. 

For now, though, you'll have to wait. I just hope you haven't given up on our quest. Or me. 

I lo... (he crossed this out). 

Until next time, my dear Albus. 

Gellert.


	6. ~ Six ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback Chapter (2)

\----------1898 (continued)----------

A dangerous calm swept over Albus. As Gellert held his lips against his own, a sudden urgency crept over him. For something he had wanted for so long, it suddenly seemed not enough. 

They'd locked themselves in a trance. Latched onto one another; pulling at clothing. Feeling the skin below the lips of the other - tastefully found with their tongues. It was breathtaking. Beautiful. But above all, it felt right.

Whilst still attacking his face with his lips, Albus clumsily removed his coat. The summer air had still perpetuated a chill. Though now, it would seem, the temperature was irrelevant to the following moments. 

Albus felt courageous.

He did not know why he'd done it. Maybe because the initiation had felt too subtle or the need to push the boundaries because Gellert still hadn't spoken up about them. But once they'd pushed away from each other, to take a breath, Albus wanted nothing else. 

For a second they swapped glances. Not removing their hands, but not moving either. Until Albus quickly pushed forwards again. 

Pushing on his mouth, he knocked Gellert onto his back. Climbing on top of him so he could kiss the boy underneath him. Almost forcefully. But leaning over the blond-haired boy, who couldn't look happier to be in the moment, Albus felt the need that had forced his hand, disappear. A gut feeling underneath the surface that was uncovering the precipice of emotion he’d hidden away. 

It had stopped feeling real. And had started to feel wrong.

He pushed back. His hands flat on Gellert’s chest. Luckily, he was in the better position to pull away from the embrace, but the disgruntled huff that Albus received from Gellert when their lips disconnected was probably worse than the gut feeling telling him otherwise.

Still sat firmly in Gellert’s lap, Albus muttered under his breath, “Gellert, I’m s...I’m so sorry,” He closed his eyes. Not wanting to be watched. “I need to know...I wanted…” He stopped.

Gellert smirked.

His face had contorted back to its usual self which Albus welcomed eagerly and made him ease up a little. Albus returned a comfortable smile followed by a relieved sigh. 

“Do you want to do that again?” Gellert rubbed a finger over his own lips before licking the residue of leftover saliva that was definitely not just his own. He then leant up onto his elbows and pushed himself forwards, grabbing Albus tightly above the waistline so that he could face him head-on. Albus firmly in his lap, losing the capability of emotional control, laughed out a squeal of delight. Most notably from the evergoing descension of Gellert’s hands on Albus’ lower body. 

Universally, he was lost for words. 

He gave an awkward cough. His eyes darting everywhere but Gellert’s face. Attempting to reply whilst holding his nerve for too long had resulted in a shy, coarse droop of his head. 

Gellert frowned, reaching up to place his hands softly around Albus’ neck. They were colder in contrast to the unseasonal chill, that has turned into more of an anticipated shiver. But, acknowledging the sudden comfort, Albus nuzzled into the fervent feeling of his hands; domesticated from emotion. Before raising his own eyes and neck in simulation so he could stare into Gellert’s beautiful mismatched eyes. Into the eyes of the man who had fallen in love with...

“Albus…” he started, upon isolated laughter. “I thought it was quite pleasant.” 

In retrospect, toying with Albus’ feelings was a trainwreck waiting to happen. But with his hands still on either side of Albus’ face, he was so deep in a trance of the other’s embrace, the thought failed to cross his mind any further. So, he smirked again. Tucking a stray hair behind Albus’ ear when it fell so suddenly in front of his eyes. 

“I hope you know that you’re beautiful,” he leaned in closer to whisper. “That’s why the kiss was so amazing.”

“Gellert…” Albus replied, blushing.

“No, no. Don’t speak.” 

Gellert held his finger over Albus’ mouth to hush him. In that second, he realised he’d wanted a moment like this for as long as Albus had subtly suggested wanting over the little time he had known him. The feelings were new. Odd. Contrived from irremissible fallacies. But what confused him the most, was how right it felt too. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

Albus smiled. Putting his hands up to hold onto Gellert’s that were still held on the side of his face, when they kissed for the second time. Unlike the first rushed attempt at confirmation, the second was full of feeling. Want without the lust. Gellert wanted to feel what Albus had felt for him: a treasured content between two people. Nothing to be frowned upon because it was only the two of them. 

Even in the rushed madness that followed with heavy external breathing, Albus had managed to smile into the kissing. A mixture of accomplishment and honesty and terrible fear. Albus rolled his hands down Gellert’s arms to grab a hold of as he pushed him back down onto the grass. 

Gellert pushed back, moving his hands down to Albus’ waist. Pushing his arm around his back so his right hand grabbed onto Albus’ right hip. Tension rose as their kissing deepened and Gellert pulled Albus around with his one strong arm so that they switched positions on the ground. 

Taken aback, Albus hit the grass with a thud. His limbs unflexed and limp as Gellert climbed over him, dominating from above. Yet he was soft upon interaction and slowly moved his thumb across Albus’ cheek so he could feel the heat rising in the pinkish blush across his face. 

Albus’ resistance to not smile proved impossible, so instead, he moved his own hands back around Gellert’s waist and pulled him on top of him to kiss more vigorously. 

The tightly packed embrace was carelessness at its finest. 

Open to go further, Gellert opened his mouth and allowed his tongue entrance into Albus’ mouth. A hot flush succumbed his complexion as Albus received the entrance with pleasure. Moaning and yearning for more even though they couldn’t have been closer. The frantic movement of his hands across Gellert’s body was a counteraction to what his brain may or may not have been telling him to do. But, the rush of helplessness soon overwhelmed them with a hefty slap of adrenaline. Albus only wanted to kiss him. 

Kiss him again and again and again. 

Gellert’s soft cursive lips were the basis of all meaning of the word love. Albus had lost himself. Trapped in a marriage of lust. Though, for something he had wanted for so long, he couldn’t believe how easily he had given into Gellert’s...unruly persuasion.

Yet want to be had hadn't just consumed himself. A replenishment defined by the continued upclimb of the speed of their kissing. Gellert seemed unable to stop his wandering hands, but realising neither of them would be able to hold their breath for much longer, Gellert moved his lips to Albus’ neck. He received a much needed inhale from the man underneath him, who pushed him lightly to indicate he needed a break. 

Gellert reclined, leaving a small gap between them that wasn’t even an arm's length. The tentative notion revealed his burning cheeks and diluting irises that seemed incapable of looking anywhere but Albus’ cool blue eyes. But he frowned from the loss of contact regardless of the warm sensitivity he had just endured with his friend.

Or lover. Were they lovers?

He’d never contemplated before. But, Albus on the other hand, had in fact never thought of anything else after meeting him for the first time. 

He hoisted his hips slightly so Gellert took the hint. Allowing him to lean back up and sit back into Gellert’s lap. His legs on either side of Gellert’s body and his eyes symmetrical and craving into his eyes. However, Gellert in return held a gaze with much more question in his mind. 

Albus could see this. 

“Look,” he started. “If this isn’t what you wanted. If you don’t like me like that, I get it. I’m used to disappointment.” Gellert continued to frown but let him continue. “Gellert, what we just did is more than I ever thought I’d get from you...”

“And?”

“And honestly it was better than I thought. So, thank you.”

The boy whose lap he was sat in was helpless. They had just been two teenagers kissing. Screw the ideologies of a societal norm. None of it contributed because it was only them. But to Albus, it was so much more. And if Gellert was being honest with himself, he had felt some of those feelings too.

“Albus.”

“Yeah?”

He moved his hand to cup Albus’ cheek again. “You can be an idiot sometimes.”

He kissed him again. Revelling in incoherent ecstasy. But the feelings that had surfaced were all but repressed. Gellert felt Albus. Breathed Albus. And wanted Albus almost as much as anything he had ever wanted. But he would have never told him his true feelings...

Ever.


	7. ~ Seven ~

The miscellaneous letters scattered across Albus’ desk were hilariously unironic. For a man that was greatly suggested to have taken over as the next minister of magic, his wreck room had become that of it’s given name: a wreck of a room. 

Standing on the other side of the desk, he skimmed his hands through a variety of stamped and unstamped post. All of which were moving like a synchronised swimming team. There was probably a howler somewhere trapped underneath as well because something was making the pile sound like it was in an unorthodox amount of pain. Though Albus wasn’t in the mood for more unauthorised spite from an angry woman in the herbology department. But something had caught his eye as he was stifling through. 

The unmarked letter was bare except for the plain incitement that read: ‘Albus Dumbledore’. 

Albus wistfully hovered over the letter. The cursive footnote as clear as day. He recognized the writing immediately and suddenly found himself unable to lift his arms up from his side. He wasn’t sure whether to feel dumbfounded, joyous or scared. 

Nevertheless, the letter was calling him, so with minimal effort, he hesitantly moved the others aside so he could pick it up from underneath the clutter. 

The letter was on half a knut paper, yet the words were without a price. He scanned the words over and over on the parchment, looking for an incantation of fakery, but there was none. It was handwritten. Coming from the mind that flowed down the arm to the pen that would otherwise rest lazily upon the table. They were his own words. Gellert’s own words.

“I need you, Albus.”

He’d never felt words like this from Gellert since their summer together...

The irremissible sentiment felt lost in translation. Albus shook his head and drew his hand to his chest. Undoubtedly, he felt on the precipice of a breakdown. His feelings had been repressed from years upon years of rejection. He couldn’t possibly still have an emotional attachment to Gellert. It couldn't have, daresay, constituted wanting him again. 

Of course it didn’t; he threw the letter down. A ploy, most probably, to make him feel weak in the ascension of something big. Gellert couldn’t do that, yet amongst the death and destruction that he’d heard recently, Albus couldn’t think about anything else. 

“He’s a sociopath, Albus. What are you thinking? You can’t!”

He breathed out, lowering his hand from his chest. Allowing himself to exhale without the help of anything but his own lungs. So, when he began pacing his office (not for the first time), he recalled it not being so much of a stressful situation, but more an opportunity to clear his mind. 

Unfortunately, it did not help.

When he stopped pacing, he threw himself back against the desk simultaneously to an abrupt knocking coming from his office door. He raised his eyebrows and felt a huge weight fall off his shoulders when a raspy voice followed with a hint of a scarce tone that Albus was widely aware of. 

“Dumbledore! Dumbledore, can I come in? It’s important. I apparated here from London.”

Before Albus could open the door, a familiar red-haired man fell through the door and onto the floor, in an attempt to run through too quickly. The door, as he failed to notice, was not locked. 

Albus smiled, feeling a bit more relaxed. He walked over to the peculiar man on the floor, offering his hand so he could get up. There was a wash of pure embarrassment and adrenaline across his face. An odd combination of emotion for anybody but him. 

“Newt,” he greeted him. “A pleasure.” Dumbledore shook his hand before patting him on the back. He gestured to the chair that he was leaning next to before, which Newt declined to sit in. The incorrigible fixation from his body language was that of a man about to explode with avidity. So, Dumbeldore leant up against the desk again and let him continue. 

“Dumbledore, I’m sorry for the intrusion. I was planning on sending an owl, but I was unsure of the current circumstance with…” he paused, looking around the room. “Privacy.”

Albus nodded. “I see. Go on.”

“Well, after our last meeting, I returned to London. Sending out word for any sightings because of Grindelwald’s escape. But, only to those I could trust, you see.”

“So, not your brother, then?” Albus raised his eyebrows. 

“No,” he sighed. “Unfortunately not, anymore. But I did hear back about a potential sighting in…”

Dumbledore stopped him, moving closer. He put his finger to his lips and hushed so his voice could not have been heard if someone had their ear to the door. 

“I know where he is.” He whispered. 

“You do?!” 

“Shh!!” Albus said, trying to stop him from shouting.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to burden you with his whereabouts,” Albus said, dropping his finger. “He’s very powerful and I know you’re not ready to confront him because I know for a fact, I am not.”

Newt stood adjacent. A little out of sorts. He knew Albus was right, because meeting the man head-on would have been a death waiting to happen. But, the atmosphere had changed and Newt was starting to contemplate whether the unassuming pain across Dumbledore’s face was to do with his own idiocy of the severity of the situation or something to do with Grindelwald. 

“You wanted me to hunt him down. Have you changed your mind?” he said.

“More like a change of heart.”

Newt shot a curious glance Dumbledore’s way. Unsure. But definitely assuming he guessed the point of the pain in his face incorrectly. Even though Albus did tend to speak cryptically, sometimes. 

“What do you want me to do?”

Albus went to speak, but stopped upon peeking out the corner of his eye to see the door still slightly ajar. He stiffened, before moving over, despite prying eyes from Newt, and pushed the door closed, locking it behind him with the key that was sat firmly in the lock. Still facing the door, he held his flat palms to the hardwood. Breathing out in strenuous gasps. “I need you to find him,” he muttered, not turning around to face him. “Before he finds me.”

It was rash and fast under his lucid tone. Newt barely caught the words, but nodded behind him. Albus, still facing the door, took a card out of his pocket, turning it over in his hands. One not that dissimilar from a business card one would give to an acquaintance. The card was black, with a gorgeous silver font that whispered the words onto it. He held it, not too tight, and then turned back in one swift movement to reface Newt. 

“I need you to go to this address,” he passed him the card. “It’s in Paris. A safe house, of sorts, where you can hide out for a while.” He winked at him. “I think you’ll find it quite useful.”

“Thank you,” Newt replied, accepting the card and digging it into one of his many coat pockets. 

Albus gave him a sad smile, but didn’t respond. He stood next to Newt, his arms crossed and sluggish and then decided to look down at the hardwood floor. Newt understood. The sadness was tenaciously prominent. Accompanied with the slapdash raised eyebrows that were unintentionally arrogant, Newt took that as his cue to leave. 

“Well, let me know if anything else comes up this time, please,” he said. “I like to be forewarned if I’m going to be attacked by a dark wizard.”

He heard the light chuckle Albus released under his fallen face. A sudden sense of isolation was too overwhelming for him, and in need of hurrying Newt out the door, Albus unfolded his arms, held out his hand and shook Newt’s in turn. 

“Safe travels, Newt.”

“Erm…”

“Clockwise.” He winked again, gesturing to the door. 

Newt blazoned a final smile before walking towards it. Pressing closely so they both heard the faint ‘click’ followed by his footsteps that got fainter and fainter until they were eventually gone. 

Albus let out a sigh he hadn't realised he was holding. Wiping his face with his hands and realising he’d ascertained sweat in more than one place, he shook it off like a dog at the beach. His hands were sticky too so he rubbed them on his trousers, shaking his head and looking up towards the door.

He stopped. 

He sighed again.

Newt hadn’t pulled it closed all the way. Frustrated and a little agitated, Albus slumped over with a lot less enthusiasm than he’d thought to have had. 

He pushed the door—it wouldn’t close.

He tried again—it wouldn’t close.

Albus looked down, noticing a piece of fabric had caught itself. Probably off Newt’s coat, he suspected. Not even second-guessing himself before coming to the assumption.

But, when he leant down to remove the fabric, upon opening the door, what he’d thought was fabric was actually a shoe. A shoe caught in between the doors. 

Albus gasped. 

He quickly took his stance, pulling back and opening the door completely. Holding his breath before had not been enough, for had he not covered his mouth in that moment, he would have screamed. 

“How touching,” said Grindelwald.


	8. ~ Eight ~

Tall, dark and handsome: the epithet of intensity. 

He stood in the threshold of the doorway, staring nowhere but Albus’ awe. Their eyes had yet to break apart, mostly due to Albus’ inability to move. The inches that separated them wasn’t helping; Gellert held himself strongly though. Close enough to breathe in the same air.

Albus’ subsumption to silence had been noted as soon as he opened the door. He’d lowered his hand from his mouth and Gellert felt the need to avert his eyes to his slightly open mouth. Waiting for him to say something, but knowing he wasn’t going to make the first move. 

Of course, he never did. 

“Well,” he smirked, on the verge of laughter. “Are you going to let me in?”

Standing adjacent, neither man chose to move. Albus was obviously hesitant and the matter of how close Gellert was standing had suddenly become incomprehensible. He’d somehow managed to inch that little bit closer despite the fact both of them hadn’t as much as blinked since he entered. 

Their faces were almost touching. A thought crossed Albus’ mind. Then aware that he couldn’t shake the thought and was almost certain that if he moved, he’d be viable to stumble over his own feet or words before deciding whether letting Gellert into his office was a good idea. Gellert realised this. Opting to take his time一by making the first move一he brushed his shoulder lightly past Albus’ as he entered the large office. 

Albus couldn’t move, even as he tensed up against the brief touch. But, without turning, he managed to utter one of the many questions wavering across his mind. “How did you even get in here, Gellert?” He said, a hint of uncertainty lingering on his tongue. “The castle is secured from the outside一”

Gellert had walked over to his desk. Admiring the many bookshelves that lined the circumference of the room, reminiscent to that of a fantasy. He wouldn't have been surprised to find something on seclusion or contempt strewn across his desk, mirroring that of Albus’ feelings for the past twenty or thirty years. 

“You’ve done well for yourself,” Gellert said, deliberately not answering the question. “Didn’t I tell you?”

He rubbed his finger across the desk as though inspecting for dust before turning and hoisting himself so he sat on top of it, his feet barely touching the floor. Albus heard everything, still facing the door. But, upon hearing the soft scuffle of papers being pushed aside, he halted his invalidation of not facing his fears and turned to face Gellert. Crossing his arms in anguish. 

“You did一” He suddenly felt nauseous. “Perhaps you can articulate an answer to one of my many questions or, heaven forbid, an apology, Gellert. It’s not like I haven’t seen you in thirty years!” More than a hint of spite behind his tone. 

“Well, it’s not like you to hold a grudge, Albus.”

He scoffed in response, closing his mouth. Even now, seeing Gellert angry or upset was at the bottom of his list of things he didn’t want to see. Yet now it seemed his anger could be construed as dangerous if he were pushed too hard. Albus, not willing to take that risk, inched a little closer, stuttering under his tongue, unable to control his nerves. 

“You’re right,” it came out as a mumble. “But if you’re actually here to talk, please take an actual seat.”

The man with the pearly white locks got caught in a trance. (Had Albus told him he was right?) Disregarding, of course, Gellert watched Albus uncross his arms and walk around the side of the desk. He felt a tension jolt in his mouth, stopping him from uttering something sarcastic or demeaning. So when nothing else came to mind, he uttered, “Of course.”

However, this was still accompanied by his devilish smirk. Albus catching it as he circled the desk. Gellert proceeded to hop down off the uncomfortable desk and spin around on the chair that was neatly pushed underneath. He pulled it out and fell down, a glimmer of judgement in his eyes. They hadn’t removed eye contact while he did so. Albus seconded him by falling into his own chair, a little too gracefully for Gellert’s liking, but chose not to press further in fear of another argument erupting.

They sat like that a few seconds too long; until the awkwardness had subsided. 

“You don’t trust me.” 

“What I don’t trust is the reason why you’re here, Gellert.”

“Then I shall tell you.”

“Don’t一” 

Realising what he was going to do before he did it, Albus watched Gellert stand up again and push back his chair so that it had fallen onto its side behind him. Albus rolled his eyes. 

His inability to stay still for more than a few minutes was fruitless. Albus wracked his mind for any instance where something had worked out dissimilar and was frustrated to suspect that there never had been. What he failed to consider though was knowing what his friend was like, all these years later. 

But he’d be lying if he’d admitted that even this brief visit hadn’t been something he desperately wanted.

Albus raised his eyes, watching the other man pace back and forth. A temperament turned action that he would be seen doing before addressing a person. The need to have a conversation down to a tee before it had even happened was a compulsion Albus had watched him commit for years. Gellert seemed to have forgotten this ritual, nevertheless performing it without the realisation. He was muttering under his breath, Albus had noticed, too. No point interrupting him until he was ready because the process would undoubtedly start all over again. 

When he did stop moving, he turned to face Albus again. Hands on his hips. Authoritative.

“My escape, no thanks to you, was thankfully a success,” Not the start he was expecting. “Not that I had any doubts myself. My followers have come to my aid when needed.”

“Because that’s all they are good for?”

He frowned. “But一had I not received that help, I would have been stuck in that facetious courtroom in Europe.” He dropped his hands from his hips, mimicking Albus from earlier by crossing them over his chest.

Albus almost laughed. “You’re in Europe now, Gellert.”

“Yes, but unlike here, I would not have been in the company of a friend,” he let Albus’ eyes linger over his body. “Someone I can trust.”

Unbeknownst to Gellert, Albus was pushing away a flushed complexion. He was still staring at Gellert, but because of the position of the desk chair, he face was partially concealed by the shadow from the bookshelf behind him. A blessing, if anything, Albus thanked the interior designers for.

“What I see before me, is a man I once trusted,” he continued. “And after all this time, I still do. Because I want you to take this opportunity to accompany一”

“Why are you here, Gellert?”

There was a time where Albus wouldn’t have dared interrupt Grindelwald. But now, astonishing himself more than anything, he realised that fact had ultimately slipped his mind. He wasn’t angry; more frustrated, but his ignorance had forced him to actually speak his mind.

“It’s so much telling me your brilliant plan of escape, but what have I got to do with it?” Albus said, understandably pissed off. “Why are you here? Why are you in my office? Why are you here, in my office, in Hogwarts?”

For the first time, Gellert was taken aback. Impressively so. He was smirking again like the flick of a switch. Albus’ fury-fuelled intensity was an endangered emotion. He enjoyed it a little too much. 

“And where have you been?”

“What?”

“My, how times have changed,” he slurred. Biting the bottom of his lip, indicating a minor hostile sense of arousal. “I like it. This new you.”

When Albus returned a well-hidden attempt at belligerence, Gellert understood the memo. He didn’t sit down, but he stopped swaying from left to right that he hadn’t realised he was doing. In turn, Albus raised his eyebrows.

“Fine! I want you back!” he blurted out. “I need you back.”

Albus was wide-eyed. “I’m sorry一what?”

His mind filled with contextual potential. Gellert and him when they were teenagers. The last time they had been together when they had been happy. Perhaps being a bit optimistic, Albus lowered his guard slightly and leant back in his chair.

“What I mean is, this complex relationship we have, it can be solved,” Gellert said, watching Albus lower his gaze at his uncanny optimism of something more. “I want you to join me.”

“I know.”

“Align yourself with a cause that we had once only dreamed of together.”

“I know.”

“We could do it together. A collaboration. Propinquity. A relationship一”

“Gellert, we both know your idea of a relationship and my idea of a relationship are two completely different things.”

He sighed into his hands, only briefly, before pushing himself up by the armrests of the chair and circling the desk over to Gellert’s side. They stood adjacent once more, a little further apart than before, with the desk over Albus’ right shoulder and Gellert’s left. 

“I’ve left those morals behind me,” he said, poking Gellert in the chest. “But this time you can’t manipulate me by promising something you cannot possibly want to give me.”

“How do you know for certain?”

“How do I know what for certain?”

“It’s a shame,” Gellert said, smirking. “I thought you’d remember.”

Gellert swiftly closed the little distance between them, grabbing a startled Albus by the hips and pushed him backwards toward the desk until his back hit it with a gentle thud. 

From there he removed his hands, opting to nestle them either side of Albus’ body and pushed up against him until there was nothing but clothing separating their bodies. Albus gasping when Gellert leant his face forwards and kissed him. And not that Albus was against this momentous, terrifically abrupt foregoing, but the likelihood of this actually being something Gellert wanted as well as him, was balancing on a very thin rope. 

Yet the wildly confusing sentimentalities that Gellert had been dropping throughout the evening was falling on the opposite side of disgust. He was moaning into the kiss and Albus couldn’t help but imitate the action and feeling of being touched by him again. Their hands were roaming, and not in a friendly way. Albus struggled to stop, but knowing he had to in the back of his mind was the only reason he eventually pushed away, bringing his hands to Gellert’s chest. 

“We can’t一”

“Yes, we can.”

“But you’re just manipulating me again.”

Gellert licked his lips again. Albus couldn’t look anywhere else. He watched as he gave a gentle sigh before moving up to whisper in Albus’ ear.

“Yes, this is happening because I want it to. And no I’m not playing you into some scenario where the aftermath will result in you joining me on my conquest.” He hissed before biting Albus’ earlobe.

He almost melted, falling limp at the tender tone. Gellert pulled back slightly at that and looked Albus dead in the eyes. “Because I have realised that is not what you want,” he continued. “But, I’m pretty sure, this is.”

Albus laughed at that, pulling him in again to kiss him further. Roughly tugging on the sharp lapels of Gellert’s coat for some kind of stability as his own lower back pushed into the desk. 

Albus smiled when Gellert moved down to attack his neck, leaving tender kisses and vicious bites. Thinking of nothing but how glad he was that something had finally worked in his favour.


End file.
